


Princess

by Anonymous



Series: Princess [1]
Category: Power (TV 2014)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dancing, Dirty Talk, F/M, One Shot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Reader Insert, Smut, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The reader goes out dancing to celebrate her birthday and catches the attention of a certain smug, kinky, sex god. She's never been with someone so breathtaking but she won't let that quell her sassy confidence.
Relationships: Diego Jimenez/You, Diego Jiménez/Reader
Series: Princess [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802764
Kudos: 21
Collections: Anonymous





	Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic as a gift for a dear friend on Tumblr, but I wanted to immortalize it on AO3 as well! Enjoy! Follow me on Tumblr at [chelsfic](http://chelsfic.tumblr.com).

_“How much did he just charge us?!?”  
_

You stare at your friend, agog at the figure the bartender just charged her for two drinks. You are definitely a long way from home, that’s for sure.

“Relax,” she waves you off and hands you your glass, “It’s your birthday!”

“But you realize we could buy like…four pitchers at Margarita’s for the price of these two tiny drinks, right?” Yeah, the whole idea had been to come into the city and pretend to be rich and glamorous for one night–but you know Lisa’s job doesn’t pay her much and you don’t want to bankrupt her for your birthday…at least not this early in the evening. “Well, I’m getting the next round!”

She nods and turns back to the dance floor, eyes glittering like a predatory cat as she watches the dancers sway, gyrate and generally commit public indecencies. You smirk and let your eyes roam as well. You might be letting your natural sass make you a little contrary, but you have to admit you love this. The music–so loud you can feel it pulsing in your bones, the contagious energy of the crowd…you don’t even care that you stick out like a sore thumb among all these supermodel thin girls and–frankly–out of this world hot guys. You have no clue how Lisa managed to get you into the most elite club in New York for your birthday but…you’re going to make the most of it.

“Should we show these skinny bitches how to dance?”

Here’s the thing: when it comes to confidence? You outshine everyone else on this dance floor. This is your night! You take Lisa’s hand and lead her out into the throng and the two of you move with the music like you were born with silver spoons and not a care in the world other than having a good time. Monday you’ll go back to work, back to daydreams and deadlines, but tonight is yours and you’re not going to waste it.

You’re working up a sweat, rolling your hips with the music and not giving a damn if you look silly, just losing yourself in the dance. 

“Hey!” Lisa leans close and has to yell into your ear to be heard, “There’s a Latino sex god checking you out right now!”

You roll your eyes at her and scoff, “What are you talking about, Lisa?”

“Look! Casually!” she nods her chin over your shoulder and you do a little not-so-casual spin to glance behind you. Okay, _yes_ , there is a staggeringly beautiful man a few feet away who’s currently being worshiped by three female dance partners. Your mouth actually drops open in shock as you look at him and you have to consciously close it while your eyes rake over his body. He is a _well-built_ man. Tall, broad, muscles straining against his black button-down shirt and suit jacket. He’s digging his fingers into one of the girl’s hips and his hands are absolutely huge. You slowly raise your gaze to take in his stubbled jaw, full, smirking lips, wide cheekbones and bottomless, brown eyes. Brown eyes that– _yup_ –are staring right back at you.

You spin back around and collide into Lisa’s arms. 

“Okay!” you yell. “He’s definitely looking over here.”

This guy has three supermodels hanging off of him and he’s staring at you like he wants to eat you up.

“Okay, okay, girl,” Lisa launches into her life coach voice and you groan. “This is your night, remember? You need to go fucking get down on that dick.”

“Jesus!” you laugh and shake your head at her, but you’re already glancing back over your shoulder. He’s still staring and now his lips are curled up in a grin. He raises a hand and crooks his finger at you. Oh, he thinks you’re at his beck and call, huh? You turn back to Lisa and dip down low, jutting out your ass and throwing your wild curls over your shoulder as you slowly, slowly roll upright. 

“He’s gonna have to earn it!” you yell and Lisa is shaking her head in disbelief. 

“You’re something else!” she exclaims.

You throw yourself back into the dance in earnest, but this time it’s different. This time you’re putting on a show. You dip, roll, gyrate and sway, all the while locking eyes with the dark haired stranger across the dance floor. He tries beckoning you over again and you shake your head with a smug grin, crooking your finger back at him. You’re setting the rules tonight. He actually breaks into a full smile at your boldness and you nearly swoon over the dimples in his cheeks.

He finally breaks away from his gaggle of admirers and makes his way toward you. You play it cool, like you couldn’t care less if he wants to dance with you, but inside you’ve got some serious butterflies. The butterflies only ramp up when you notice the two stern, bodyguard-types who break away from the wall and seem to track his movements as he walks over to you. _Shit. Who is this guy?_

He strolls up to you, inserting himself into your dance space and planting his greedy hands on your hips. His fingers dig into your flesh and the touch sets you on fire. He’s a good head taller than you and he has to lean down to rumble into your ear, “Bonita! You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?”

You smirk up at him and tilt your chin past his shoulder, indicating the dejected groupies still lingering behind him, “I don’t like to share!”

He laughs, letting his hands wander to your backside, squeezing your ass as he grinds his hips against yours. 

“You think you can handle me all by yourself?” he asks with a cocky head tilt. 

You reach up your hands and thread them through his hair, dragging your manicured nails over his scalp, his neck, his chest, lower still. 

“I’m a big girl,” you quip. “I’ll manage. What’s your name?”

“Diego,” he answers and his dark eyes are fixed on the contour of your bust in the tight dress you’re wearing. It takes him a minute to formulate his next words, “What’s your name, bonita?”

You grab him by the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling his face down to yours and whispering your name in his ear. When you draw back he takes the opportunity to grab your face, locking his lips on yours and capturing you in a searing, intense kiss. His hands reach down to cup your butt and lift you onto your tiptoes as he deepens the kiss. The rest of the club falls away and it’s just you and Diego. You let your hands wander over his body, running down his chest, teasing the waistband of his tailored pants and trailing back to make your way up to his strong, muscled shoulders. But you stop short when your hand brushes against the cold metal handgun sticking out of the back of his pants under the jacket. 

Your breath catches and you pull away from the kiss. You feel a warning creep down your spine as you lock eyes with him and he grins, amused at your sudden qualms.

He leans his forehead against yours and growls against your lips, “You don’t know who I am, little girl?”

Your eyes shift to the two body guards lurking nearby and then back to Diego. You shake your head slowly and answer, “Somebody dangerous, I bet.”

Diego’s eyes glint with unhinged humor. He nods his head, running his hands firmly up and down your sides, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your dress. He’s bold. And used to taking what he wants. 

“Si, bonita. I’m dangerous. You still think you can handle me?”

_What the fuck. It’s your birthday._

You drag your own firm hands over his body, lingering over his abdomen and then plunging downward to hold him through his pants.

“Diego,” you hiss, giving him the faintest squeeze, “do you think you can handle _me_?”

***

You feel a little guilty ditching Lisa but in the end she’s the one urging you to seize the night.

“I’ll be fine, girl! My friend just texted me she’s at another club–we’re gonna meet up. Go get that dick! Happy birthday!” she practically shouts the last part and you slap her arm.

You glance over your shoulder where Diego is looking less than patient waiting with his entourage. 

“Okay, but listen. Here’s the address I’ll be. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow–”

“I’ll bust in the place myself, I got you!”

****

Diego leaves the guards behind as you enter the elevator. If you hadn’t already been clued in by his style, clothes, bodyguards and vehicle–well, the outlandishly high class penthouse he lives in really solidifies how out of your element you are. Diego isn’t just wealthy. He’s wealthy and powerful… and used to getting what he wants when he wants it. You’re feeling a little overwhelmed in your knock-off dress, comparing what he has to your own modest apartment back in Pennsylvania…and feeling just the tiniest bit inferior. But you hold your head up as you stride across the marble floor, entering the penthouse like visiting royalty. Something tells you Diego’s attracted to your confidence and you’ll be damned if you’ll let him intimidate you.

“Nice place,” you comment dryly, affecting disinterest while your eyes widen at the view from the floor to ceiling windows.

“Thanks,” he remarks casually before practically jumping you. His hands are everywhere he’s kissing every inch of your face like he can’t get enough. You let out a breathy moan as he inches his fingers under the short hem of your skirt and brushes your inner thighs. His beard rasps against your cheek as he growls, “I’m going to fuck you on every surface.”

He works his fingers between your thighs, rubbing you through your panties with firm, punishing strokes as he grinds his erection against your stomach. For a moment you want to surrender entirely and let this man do whatever the fuck he wants with you. You think about the cool metal of his gun and wonder what it would feel like ground against your clit. This man is _doing_ things to your brain.

But you come to your senses and place a calming hand on his wrist, cursing yourself mentally but instinctively knowing that you need to assert yourself here.

“That sounds like fun,” you say in a firm voice, removing his hand from between your thighs and straightening your dress. “But when I sleep with a man for the first time I expect to be treated like a princess. That means you’ll be taking me to your bed.”

Diego growls in frustration, wrapping his arms around you and molding you against his body. But you can see the look of respect in his eyes even as filthy words fall from his mouth, “Of course, Princess. But after I’ve fucked you to your satisfaction you’re gonna get on your knees for me and beg me to put my cock in your mouth.”

Rather than answer him you simply cup his cheeks in your hands and drag another kiss from his lips. The burn of his stubble on your face is delicious as your tongues clash. Diego pulls away first, his eyes are almost black with lust and his lips are swollen from kissing. This cocky, dangerous, powerful man is coming completely undone for you.

He takes your hand in his and leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. It’s a huge room with minimal decor, which is what you expected based on the rest of the penthouse. His bed is gigantic and covered in a silky black coverlet that probably costs as much as your whole bedroom set. You run your hand over the soft fabric and perch on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed daintily. Diego stalks toward you like a predator. You can see the calculations running behind his gaze. He’s not used to women like you. Assertive, strong, no nonsense. For once he’s the one feeling as if he needs to make an impression.

He drops to his knees before you and wraps his hands around your high-heeled foot. 

“Well, Cinderella,” he smirks up at you, slowly removing the shoe and letting it drop to the floor. He wraps his hands around your little foot and drags his fingers up your calf. “Are you ready for your prince?”

Your breath is coming hot and heavy as his hands inch further up your legs. You try for a smug smirk but when he delves his fingers between your thighs again you let out an undignified moan.

“N-never saw a Prince Charming like you before, Diego,” you pant, falling back on your elbows as his long fingers creep under the fabric of your panties and slip between your folds. 

“No, Princess,” he smirks, dipping one finger inside you without warning. “I think I’m more like the villain.”

He’s on his knees for you but his touch is a reminder of the man he is. He is not gentle. He pumps his fingers into you with brutal force, delighting in the little squeaks and mewls that fall from your lips whenever he slams your pussy especially hard. And his words. His voice. You’ve never been more turned on.

“You like that, Princess? Huh? You like when I fuck you with my fingers? Oh, bonita, you are tight, girl. You don’t know what’s coming for you, huh? Are you gonna take my cock like a good girl, huh?”

You’re writhing on the edge of the bed, desperately trying to grind your clit against the heel of his palm and making needy, pitiful noises that are entirely embarrassing, but you don’t give a fuck. 

You try to wrest back control, sitting up suddenly and grabbing the hem of your dress, pulling it off in one motion and (thank god) not getting stuck with it half-way up your body.

You look down at Diego kneeling at your feet, still fully dressed and his expression rabid with desire. You smile and stroke your fingers through his hair. You let your hand cup the back of his head and pull him forward until his face is hovering over your pussy and you can feel his hot breath ghosting against you. 

“I want to take your cock, Diego. But first show me how much you want me.”

He flashes a crooked grin up at you before dipping down between your legs and drawing his wicked tongue through your folds. You let out a hoarse whimper but Diego is relentless. He presses his flattened tongue to your clit, licking and circling the sensitive bundle while dragging the rough stubble on his chin over your sensitive skin. You fist your fingers in his short hair and cry out for him no to stop. _Keep going. Keep going_. But just as your thighs are starting to clamp down around his head with the force of your coming orgasm, Diego rips himself away and stands up to stalk around the side of the bed. You scramble back towards the headboard, eyes fixed on him as he removes his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and shoulder muscles. 

He comes up to the side of the bed, looming over you with a wild look in his eyes.

“I’m in control now, baby,” he hisses, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants and underwear fall to the floor. 

Your eyes fall to the massive erection jutting between his legs and you actually whimper in anticipation. 

He stands there staring at you, waiting. When you don’t get it he reaches out and smacks the side of your thigh with his open palm, “Who’s in control now, baby girl?”

You know you’re out of your depth now and everything about this man screams danger, but you find yourself nodding and panting with need, “You’re in control, Diego!”

He turns to his nightstand, grabbing a condom from the drawer and deftly slipping it over his cock. He climbs up on the bed, crawling between your open legs and rubbing himself through your folds. He catches your eyes and leans down to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips as he plunges inside you. He wasn’t boasting before. You’ve never had anyone this big, he stretches you to your limit. When he finally seats himself fully you cry out at the pleasant, burning pain of being so thoroughly filled.

He brings his hands up to your face and runs his fingers through your hair. You look up at him and see the muscles in his jaw clenching and his eyelids fluttering as he holds himself back.

“You good, Princess?” he asks with a grunt that sends twinges straight to your core. Watching this man lose his self possession for you, because of you…it’s something you could see yourself becoming addicted to very quickly.

You nod up at him, “I’m good, Diego. I’m good.”

You are. You want to experience this man unleashed and unhinged. You want to know what he means when he says he’ll fuck you to your satisfaction. You don’t have to wait long. At your words he lets out a moan and starts brutally pounding into you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and lays sloppy kisses along your tender skin as his cock grinds into you over and over again. His hands are everywhere–but mostly your tits and ass, _let’s be honest._

He rears back his head and looks down at you with those dark, unreadable eyes and he orders, “Come, Princess. Come like a good girl for Diego.”

You want to hold out just to spite him, but he’s already edged you so close with his lips and tongue that his words are all it takes to crash you into your orgasm. You tremble and clench around his rigid cock as you ride the waves of your pleasure. All the while Diego is grunting and slamming into you with abandon, taking what he wants. When his orgasm follows shortly after he goes rigid for a second, clenching his fingers on your hips to hold you still as he presses into you with bruising force.

“Ahh,” he cries, falling forward and nearly smothering you with his solid body. His skin is slick with sweat and he’s sticky against you. You can feel his cock softening inside you, sending fluttering sensations through your core. He pulls out rather abruptly and you give a little cry of protest. You watch him remove the condom and drop it over the side of the bed before he crawls back over to you and collapses at your side.

“You did well, Princess,” he praises you, cupping his massive hand around the side of your head and threading his fingers through your curls.

“So did you, Mr. Villain,” you laugh, still a little out of breath.

He pulls back and lays flat on his back, breathing heavily, “Now. I think there was something mentioned about you on your knees?”


End file.
